Chapter 4
Four days earlier, a gas station security camera had caught Logan on surveillance. He rolled up to the pump, parked his truck, and climbed out, dressed in dark jeans and a black hoodie, the hood shadowing a baseball cap pulled low on his head.
Logan filled the tank, went inside, and piled a basket full of junk food and drinks. He returned to his truck minutes later and opened the passenger-side door. A duffel bag could be seen sitting on the floor. He set the food and drinks on top of it and then slid into the driver’s seat.
It was the last time he’d been seen.
I parked in Logan’s parents’ driveway, and when I exited my vehicle, I was surprised to see Rosemary walking to the front door. She made a fist like she was preparing to knock, and then she hesitated and turned toward me.
“Hey, Georgiana, what are you doing here?” she asked.
“I came to speak with Logan’s parents.”
“Then I guess you heard.”
“That Logan’s missing? Yeah, I did.”
Rosemary moved a hand to her hip. “I had no idea. My next-door neighbor just told me, and I came right over. I have to say, I’m worried. What if the man who killed Audrey has Logan? Or even worse, what if Logan’s dead too?”
“Until we have more information, we shouldn’t jump to any conclusions just yet,” I said.
“It’s hard not to, don’t you think? Why else would he leave and not return home after a couple of days?”
“Logan told his parents he was going out of town for the weekend with friends. But when those friends were questioned, they said no plans had ever been made.”
“It doesn’t make sense. It’s not like Logan to lie. He’s a good kid. An honest one, too, in my experience.”
Not completely honest, it seemed.
He’d lied to his parents.
But why?
Was it so they wouldn’t worry?
Worrying was inevitable.
It was just a matter of time before they realized they’d been misinformed.
Foley seemed convinced Logan was their prime suspect.
He didn’t say it right out, but I could tell.
Maybe I should have leaned into that possibility more myself.
After all, the young man was on the run.
But before I condemned him, I needed to know more, and I needed proof, evidence suggesting he played a role in Audrey’s death.
I knocked on the door, and it swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman with short, curly red hair and striking blue eyes. Clad in yoga gear and a bit out of breath, she looked at us as though we’d interrupted her usual workout.
The woman looked at Rosemary, then at me. “Who are you? And why are the two of you carrying on outside my front door?”
Rosemary tipped her head my way. “Tilly, this is Georgiana Germaine. She’s a private detective. It’s been a month since Audrey died, and I thought the police might need a little extra help, so I’ve hired her to investigate.”
A gust of cool air swept past, and I seized the folds of my black velvet coat, a 1920s relic with puffed sleeves, pulling it snug against myself. “Would it be all right if I come in and ask you a few questions?”
Tilly frowned. “I’d rather you didn’t.”
It wasn’t the response I was hoping for, and I paused a moment, trying to come up with a different approach.
“I just need a few minutes of your time,” I said. “If your son is missing, I can help find him.”
She flung her hands in the air, exhaling a frustrated sigh. “Why does everyone assume my son is missing?”
“From what I understand, Logan told you and your husband he was going away with friends. The police spoke to those friends. They said no plans were ever made.”
“He didn’t tell me he was going away with friends. He told his father, Vaughn. I’m not sure what all the fuss is about. I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a resourceful kid, always has been.”
Spoken like a mother who would say anything to protect her son.
“Have you heard from Logan since he left?” I asked.
“No.”
“It’s been four days. Aren’t you worried?”
Tilly cast a quick look behind her, scanning the hall as though she was concerned someone might overhear our conversation, and then she looked at me. “When Logan gets overwhelmed, he takes off sometimes.”
I wasn’t buying it, but I decided to play along, for now.
“When he disappears like that, how long does he stay away?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Until he feels like coming home.”
Rosemary raised a brow, a silent gesture that told me she wasn’t fond of Tilly’s answer. “I must say, I’ve never known Logan to take off this way.”
Tilly cast Rosemary a sharp look, a silent warning to hold her tongue, but Rosemary wasn’t having it.
“I’d like you to explain to me why you won’t accept Georgiana’s help,” Rosemary said. “Your son is missing. Have you ever considered he might be in some kind of trouble?”
Tilly leaned back, crossing her arms. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“But what if he isn’t fine?”
They squared off, and Tilly’s nostrils flared. She reached out, attempting to slam the door in our faces, but I jammed my boot inside just in time to stop her.
“How dare you!” Tilly fumed. “Even if I knew where my son was, I wouldn’t tell you. I’m sorry for what you’re going through, Rosemary. But I want you to leave. Both of you. Now.”
“I’ll leave as soon as you stop lying to me,” I said.
“And don’t bother trying to defend yourself.
Your breathing has changed, becoming faster and shallower the longer we talk, and your responses sound rehearsed.
Ever since I introduced myself, you haven’t met my eyes once.
All classic tells. You’re either hiding something from me or you’re lying to me. Or maybe a bit of both.”
Tilly glanced down the hallway again. This time, a man walked toward her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, as though wishing he hadn’t become aware of our conversation.
The man said a quick hello to Rosemary, and then he turned toward Tilly. “Everything okay here?”
“No, Vaughn,” Tilly said. “Everything is not okay. This woman is Georgiana Germany, and she—”
“It’s Germaine,” I corrected.
“Germany, Germaine, whatever. Anyway, Rosemary hired her to investigate Audrey’s murder.”
Vaughn clapped his hands together. “That’s wonderful news, isn’t it? The sooner we get answers, the sooner her family can find the peace they all deserve.”
“It may be wonderful news for Rosemary, but it it’s not so wonderful for us.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Georgiana came here to press us for information about Logan.”
Vaughn tapped a finger to the door, thinking. Then he said, “I’d like to speak to the detective alone.”
“What?” Tilly said. “No—why?”
He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Trust me, honey. It’s best I speak with her. All right?”
“I don’t understand.”
Rosemary stepped into the Lamberts’ house as if she owned the place, looped her arm in Tilly’s and said, “Come on, friend. Let’s have a drink. What do you say?”
With a great deal of reluctance, Tilly nodded, and they disappeared down the hall.
And then there were two.